Nine Feet Underground

I don't think I am going to have much to say about today.  It's looking like it will turn out to be a day on which very little happens. It's the lesser day to Joseph Heller's slightly more excitingly titled novel, 'Something Happens' I finish writing a letter and post it. I do some washing. After lunch I go for my longest walk since my operation, a walk that lasts almost 30 minutes. No sign of the previous abdominal pain experienced after being upright that long, so it does seem like the hernia is repairing well, if not yet fully fixed and ready for serious exercise. There is one downside, however: because I've not been getting the exercise I should have, especially post-operation, my left knee is complaining about the extra walking it's no longer used to.  Gonna have to walk a lot more to get all the moving parts fully operational again. This evening marks the return of the Idler drinks with the start of its summer season being kicked off by Michael Pal

I did not want to get up this morning. I don't know what time I got to sleep, but well after 2 a.m., mind churning over and over, then the alarm went off at 6 a.m. and I had to drag myself out of bed. It took two hits of the snooze button before my brain could convince my body that it wanted to be up. Even then there was an argument about 'want' versus 'need'. Semantics notwithstanding, I got up. Pretty much got straight into the shower, finishing with a blast of cold water to fire up the cells. In return they are all saying, 'Nooooooo!'  The cleaner arrives, we have a brief chat. Fifteen or so minutes later the first carer arrives, another brief chat. My body is screaming 'CAFFEINE' and I am only too willing to comply, though I will wait until at least 9 a.m. until I have breakfast. My mate in Berlin pings me to say he's feeling no ill-effects from the Astra-Zeneca vaccine and so is ready to chat now, if I am.  I am indeed so we chat for an hour

A fairly standard start to the day, barring a trip to the local shopping centre to post some letters and pick up some medication.  Whilst there I thought I might as well buy a magazine, grab a bit of shopping and pick up a coffee. It would be rude not to. I return home to the normal sequence of events for a Tuesday:  Flush my wife's catheter when the carers arrive for the lunch call; tidy stuff up; meditate, etc. One change of plan: my call to a mate in Berlin has been postponed. He's unexpectedly been offered his first Astra-Zeneca covid vaccination at a time the directly clashes with our planned call.  AZ wins out, natürlich. Continuing my theme of trying to get a walk in each day as part of my recovery process, I attempt to persuade one of my sons to join me: two are working and can't, the other CBA.  Instead I go on my own, again.  I am definitely feeling better for it and returning to work next week seems very realistic. In the early evening I have call with a mate who

As my world seems to shrink further and further, the less I have to say. Most of the usual things start my day, with the added excitement of more washing (where does it all come from?) Slightly out of the ordinary things (as opposed to 'aliens calling at the front door requesting change for fuel' kind of out of the ordinary) that broke up my day included a call from my elder sister to let me know her birthday card had finally arrived and another visit from the community matron. The CM's visit concluded that my wife is beating the infection and can stop the antibiotics as soon as the current bottle is completed, which should be no later than the end of Tuesday. These outcomes always feel like a 'stay of execution', and the rollercoaster continues its journey. Moments before the CM arrived my younger sister phoned, so our conversation was interrupted.  After the CM left I called back and we had a long conversation about the troubles and difficulties she'd facing a

'...from swerve of shore to bend of bay' brings me back to the end of another week, 'Into the wikeawades warld from sleep we are passing.' What does today have in store for me?  All the usual things ranging from washing to walking with some reading and music in between. Breakfast was a bit of a disappointment as I forgot to take my almond croissant out of the freezer last night owing to a wine miscalculation. In my defence it was just too good and frankly, well, just frankly, we'll leave it at that. A frozen almond croissant defrosted in the meekrowarvey just doesn't taste as good, somehow. Won't get fooled again. (Though I probably will drink too much wine again. Thought: Is there such a thing as 'too much wine'? It's a self-regulating process, surely, since eventually you pass out and can't drink any more. Presumably that by definition is 'enough wine' but not too much? I guess it's only too much in the context of its impact on

Another Saturday without going shopping.  Apart from the human contact, I can't say I miss food shopping, though in a strange way I'll be glad to get back to it next weekend. My brain is a bit like Schrodinger's cat in that it can hold two diametrically opposed views on something at the same time. I like it that way.  Today's delivery arrives just after 9 a.m. and I have to rouse son #2 from bed to help bring the heavier items in: I'm signed off work until next Friday and, for various reasons I'll not bore you with, I'm still being cautious as I really don't want to end up having another operation, despite the escape of the general anaesthetic (though oddly today is the first day I've felt completely clear-headed, which is weird because allegedly it should be gone from your system in 48/72 hours?) One bit of good news to start the day: my weight has dropped further and my BMI is finally back below 25 again.  Guess I could do with losing 5 to 8 pounds

Our cleaner wanted to switch days this week, so today is the day for my early start. I'm not that bothered as I have two other reasons to get up early:  I have to complete a covid swab test before 8 a.m. for a research project / survey I was invited to take part in - it's due to be picked up by courier any time after 8; I need a phone consultation with my GP and I've been told to start calling - it could be a long wait - from 7:55 a.m. onwards, with a drink to hand (I think the receptionist meant tea or coffee, rather than something stronger!) When the first carer arrives at about 7:15 (cleaner got here at about ten to seven, FFS!) I have risen and shone, suitably buffed and polished ready to take on all comers. Covid swab is done and in the fridge, as per instructions, and I'm hanging on the telephone (this is where Debbie Harry steps in).  No Debbie Harry as it turns out but, even more unexpectedly, I get through to a receptionist at bang on eight and have a phone app

Up just after seven as the first carer's car pulled up the drive.  Let her in and chatted whilst she made up the meds and set up the PEG pump for my wife.  Mid-chat I suddenly realised that I had placed an item that had arrived from a certain online retailer in the recycling without taken the item out. I had removed the address label and shredded it, but never opened the package. A hasty visit to the rubbish and search through the cardboard found the missing item. I still feel like I'm not totally with it though the anaesthetic was almost two weeks ago. All being well today will be the last day my wife is on antibiotics, with one more dose to go.  Whilst the first carer is with her, her cough still sounds quite bad. We can only wait and see. Thought about going back to bed, but my trip outside in the morning air has woken me up, so on with showering and getting ready. I'm going to try and see how driving feels and as I have a card and a letter to post this seems the perfect

What marks today as different from yesterday?  I'm a day older, certainly. The weather doesn't seem as bright.  In all other ways it started off the same, though. I noticed that there is more external bruising visible on my abdomen. I guess that's part of the process of my body repairing itself. Either that or someone's been kicking seven shades of shit out of me in my sleep. Another the letter. This is exciting: one of the carers yesterday said she nearly tripped on the front door mat.  It is looking rather knackered and is breaking up, so I ordered a new one which should be coming today. Just in time for the old one to be taken away by the bin men tomorrow. Successful delivery into a communications vacuum. I plan to go for a brief walk this afternoon and see how that goes. I must admit I don't feel like I'm recovering as fast as I'd expected and may well get in touch with my GP tomorrow. Early afternoon my sister called to check how I was and for a catch u

One day really is like any other at the moment, being totally restricted in what I can do.  What I'll do today pretty much mirrors every other day. It's sunny again, so I really must get outside, if only for a while. I'm sure a bit of sun aids recovery. Sitting out in the back garden, I'm struck by the thought that it really needs a complete re-design.  I guess I'd simplify it by making more of it lawn, maybe re-invigorate the patio (decking?) and simplify the borders (as in 'slash and burn').  Investigation suggests this could cost between £5 and £10,000 which sounds ridiculous, but who knows. Guess I'll need to get a few quotes and maybe simplify my plans, or maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised? There are so many things I've left unchanged because my mind is always focused on my wife's health and there seems to be little incentive or motivation to change anything.  Somehow I've got to kick myself up the arse and start changing things to

Trying to move forwards with things, whilst not pushing my luck so as to risk my recovery.  Though I'm definitely getting better, the pace of recovery seems to have slowed a little or maybe I'm just more conscious of how my insides feel now, not sure which. I'm going to have to keep a close eye on this as the week progresses. I do find it frustrating having the time to do things, but having to hold back whilst I wait for things to improve. It's time to change my bed and so I have to get some help stripping it, getting the washing on and hanging it out. It seems strange directing my sons to do these things, but needs must. One of the side effects of my wife's rather powerful antibiotics means I have some additional washing to do, or rather to get my sons to do. Just before midday the community matron plus one arrived to check my wife over and see how the antibiotics are doing, ideally with a view to stopping them. Unfortunately the tests suggest she's not quite w

Another day like any other day, going nowhere. The sun is out again, but like yesterday it's magical powers are struggling to break through the overcast sky within.  I can't bring myself to partake. Unexpectedly I got a visit from a friend who is a pharmacist in our local Boots. Very kindly she did me a favour in collecting and delivering my meds - and on her day off.  I'm feeling grateful and well looked after. The rest of my day wasn't much to write home, or here, about, hence this is a very brief post.  If I did stop and write more I couldn't be held responsible for what I said and so on this occasion it stays on tour. If I may quote The Fast Show, 'Black, Black, Black!'  Suitably dark humour for prevailing conditions. I gave in an ordered something I probably shouldn't have.  C'est la vie, je suppose 😕 Ended up listening to my main music playlist on random whilst resting in my room as part of some attempt to rewire, or at least, distract my brai

What to say in the ever-shrinking world that is my life? Well, it may be Saturday, but it might just as well be Monday for all the difference it makes. There are days when I feel like I am a hamster in a wheel, except my wheel lets in no light, nothing except air and food.  I am struggling with motivation, yet even if I could summon up some motivation, I can't actually do much except read, watch TV, listen to music or just rest and contemplate life. Ho hum. I have directed the boys, well actually almost entirely son #3, to do three wash loads of bed linen they'd generated.  Food shopping has been delivered with only two substitutions and nothing missing. All three sons helped a little with that. I've been reading a fair bit, until I got bored of it. Don't get me wrong, I love reading, but there's only so much of it I can do in a day, especially when it's what I've been doing most days for the past week, and will probably be most of what I'll be doing for

Purpose. Porpoise. Lost.   An early morning check of my emails confirms that the community matron will be paying my wife a visit today, so that's a bit of good news. More fun on the PC as I confirm Saturday's shopping order with the help of all three sons.  I'm still not able to go shopping, though in all honesty, it's not something I miss, apart from the fresh bread, cakes and pastries from the market. After the main carer call the community matron plus community matron in training paid my wife a visit.  Oxygen sats were normal but her temperature was oddly low and the CM said previously my wife's temperature has dropped just before an infection takes hold. Listening to her chest via stethoscope found a rattling in her right lung and this confirmed she is just starting another infection. The CM was very impressed with the carers for spotting the signs so early and said we were lucky to have such good carers, which I absolutely agree with, as it's something I kn

Feels like I've been in lockdown for ever, and every time things ease, what I can do seems to be even more restricted.  Like now.   I haven't got much to say as not much has happened.  Read a fair bit: started reading both 'Medical Grade Music' (by Steve Davis (yep! him, the snooker bloke) and Kavus Torabi) and 'Jolly Lad' (John Doran, of 'The Quietus' fame's autobiography.) Spent a couple of hours on the phone to my mate in Berlin, putting the world to rights. As the day progressed the carers noticed that my wife's cough, which she always has for reasons I'll not go into at this time, was sounding different, maybe a little more chesty. I listened and agreed that it did sound so not long after they left for the final call I emailed the community matron asking if she had time to pop in and check my wife over tomorrow. Fingers crossed. [If you go chasing rainbows you shouldn't be surprised when you fail to find the source (The Blue Blue (Fi

Things are slowly getting better and although I still do have some pain and discomfort, I've decided to stop taking painkillers altogether as I think I'll recover quicker without them, as long as I'm careful. My day is likely to pan out like all the others this week with a mix of reading, watching music documentaries, resting, and the occasional bit of writing.  For some strange reason I've not managed to listen to music much, but maybe that'll change today. In between carer visits I've managed to finished reading ' Hawkwind: Days of the Underground: Radical Escapism in the Age Of Paranoia ', which means there's room to start another book - so many to choose from!  I also found the time to write and post a review of it on Goodreads. I had a disturbing dream about a friend, which made me get in contact with them to check they were OK and it was just a crazy dream. Over lunch I started watching a documentary about Annie Nightingale, the Radio 1 DJ, whi

Not a great deal to say.  My recovery continues and I'm switching between sitting and lying down and standing to try and ease my discomfort and not spend too much time in one position. I finished reading 'Hot Milk' in the morning and then started making my way through the remainder of the Hawkwind book I've been reading for some time, I expect I'll finish it tomorrow. Only a subset of sons are present for dinner, so we can't progress 'Narcos' and instead watch a couple of old 'WILTY's, before I am off to bed again. The Coral / '1000 Years' / 'Butterfly House' [Seemingly so] [[]]

Another day of recovery, so I'm switching between sitting and reading, writing a letter and lying down listening to music.  I'm trying to find the balance between not enough painkillers to ease the pain versus enough pain killer, but not too much of the side-effects.  Unfortunately it appears that I've stepped into too much of the side-effect territory so I'm now taking laxatives as if they are the latest in fashionable, cool drinks. I've almost finished reading 'Hot Milk' and I've watched a long-ish Sky Arts documentary on Jethro Tull, as a consequence of which I have tickets to see the band at a local venue in September.  It may well end up being as a dull as ditch water, but you only live once and it will be LIVE music. Ian Anderson is quite a personality too, so... As I suggested yesterday, I'm not going to turn this blog into some kind of 'aches and pains' diary, as that would be boring as. The main consequence of not listing every detai

I heard the first carer arrive this morning but didn't feel like getting up, I was both tired and in pain, so I decided to stay put.  I heard her leave but was drifting back to sleep, next thing I knew it was ten to 9 and my next dose of painkillers were overdue, and man could I feel it.  I got up and took the next dose of drugs and went downstairs to be ready for the arrival of the main morning carers. I've decided I'm not going to document the ins and outs of my recovery in detail here, unless anything dramatic occurs (which is hopefully exceedingly unlikely), as most of it is incredibly boring. Suffice it to say there will be pain but I will be taking it easy, and I will be lying down a lot, either reading, listening to music with my eyes shut or something. Mid-afternoon, during a period of lying down, my mother-in-law (MIL) phoned to see how I was doing post-operation and also for our weekly chat.  We chatted about this and that for over an hour, including our customary

Not a normal Saturday: I was up when the first carer arrived this morning at about 20 past 7, but I wasn't dressed or showered.  I got up mainly because I was parched and had no water and as I was up I thought I might as well let her in and have a chat.  Had a chat, she left, I drank loads of water and took some upstairs as I was due to take painkillers at 8 a.m. anyway. For some reason I didn't sleep very well and woke up at about 3 a.m. and couldn't get back to sleep for ages, dunno if this was the effect of the anaesthetic or what, but, by rights, I should have been knackered and slept like a log. The painkillers seem to be working and I'm more uncomfortable than in pain.  Nevertheless some movements do cause pain, reminding me that I can't do the things I'd normally do.  I find relaxing very difficult, even when I meant to be doing it to recover, so I am trying to do nothing but every time I see something that needs sorting out (the boys are doing a good job